


priest rp

by peachinthepuss



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 21:20:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12308013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachinthepuss/pseuds/peachinthepuss
Summary: this is what happens in church, right?





	priest rp

Alex had never been a religious person. It hadn’t been a big thing in his household growing up, and it wasn’t exactly a big thing in Silver Lake.  
And, maybe, it was the fact that it had never been such a big deal that he was okay with this. 

-

He knelt in front of the altar, dropping to both knees and bowing his head over clasped hands, and he had to admit that it was a little weird that his arms weren’t behind his back. He guessed God wasn’t the same kind of dom Graves or the others were. Different strokes for different deities, he supposed.

He went through the motions that he’d watched on the Youtube video, the Hail Marys, and then he made his way slowly to the confessional. 

Holden and Jack were in the front row, Holden watching him nervously and Jack with just a little too much lust to stay in character, and he could see Marco and August in the back of the pews. Marco hadn’t taken his eyes off Adam since they’d all come in, but August hadn’t lifted his eyes from the bible Graves had slapped in his lap with a “Do it for Adam,” earlier. 

Adam, himself, set in the middle of both couples; watching.

Alex went into the confessional, closed the door slowly, and set down. 

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”

“I know,” Graves said back, and Alex could hear the smirk in his voice. “Tell me what you’ve done, pet.”

Alex shakily inhaled at the word, one that Graves only reserved for their intimate moments and this definitely was a change from their usual surroundings. 

“I-I’ve done a lot, father.” Alex spoke carefully, looking around in the small, dark room but his eyes fell down to his clasped hands. “I had, um, I’ve done things with a few men and I needed to… confess?” He trailed off, forgetting everything he’s learned from the YouTube videos and cursing himself for fucking this up already.

“You don’t sound so sure. Why don’t you try again? This time, do it right.” Graves’ voice had a hint of disappointment and Alex could feel the bead of sweat trickling down his temple. Alex took a few breaths, trying to snap himself out of the nervousness and relax.

“I’ve fucked a lot of guys,” Alex said, a little more firmly, “I mean -”

“Watch your language in this house,” Graves cut him off sharply, “I’ll remember that when I’m giving you your tasks.” 

“Y-yes, father,” Alex looked at his hands, “Um, like I said. A...lot of, um, relations with different men. Profanity, obviously...abuse of myself.”

“You’ve been touching yourself?” Graves said, laughing a little, and Alex flushed and forced himself to continue.

“Yes.”

“Is that all, pet?”

“I…” Alex let his shoulders droop, “I just want to be good, father.”

“Of course you do,” Graves said, dropping his voice so it was quieter, huskier, “And you will be. Are you ready for your punishment?”

“Yeah - I mean, yes. Father.”

“I don’t think any Hail Mary's are going to be enough for this kind of sin, pet.” Graves stopped, as if thinking, “I think...Fifty strikes. That will do it.”

“Fifty!?” Alex nearly stood up, his eyes going wide, “Graves!”

“Alex,” Graves snapped back darkly and Alex shut his mouth with a snap.

“Yes, father. Fifty strikes.”

“You’ll receive them in front of the congregation. Serve as an example. Are you ready for your absolvement?”

Alex swallowed, closed his eyes. “Yes, father.”

Alex stood up shakily, leaving the confessional and keeping his head down, not being able to look over at the others in shame. He walked back to the altar, not too sure what to do with himself but a strong hand quickly made that decision for him, pushing him down and bending him over the altar. Graves’ hand pressed down almost painfully on the back of his neck, stopping Alex from being able to turn to look over his shoulder. 

“Count each strike, Alex. Make sure you don’t miss any.” He said, the familiar commanding tone in his voice. 

Graves moved his hand to pull Alex’s pants and boxers down to his ankles. Alex felt himself blush when he heard a quiet snicker coming from someone in the pews and he would be a liar if he denied that it made his cock twitch slightly against the wooden altar. He felt Graves place a gentle hand over his ass, fingers lingering just a little too close to the crease between his cheeks and Alex had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from pushing into the touch.

“I’m going to start now, okay?” Graves lowered his voice to a volume only Alex could hear, knowing he was in a more anxious state than usual and wanting to quell that as best he could. Alex simply nodded in response, bracing himself for the strike and reminding himself to count like Marco taught him.

Graves reeled his hand back, deciding to not go easy on Alex. He swung forward, spanking Alex on the right cheek. Alex jumped a little, his eyes fluttering shut at the sharp sting but he kept his composure, remembering to do the one thing asked of him.

“One. Thank you, father.” Alex said strongly, no quivers in his voice and Graves knew he had finally gotten somewhat comfortable. 

Graves repeated his action, this time hitting Alex on the left with more force. Alex’s body jolted forward slightly and he moved his mouth to smother a whimper. Graves noticed this and didn’t give Alex a chance to correct his mistake before his fingers were in his hair and he was harshly being pulled up. 

“Count.”

“T-Two. Thank you, father.” Alex stuttered, groaning at the rough treatment when Graves forced him back down. The altar wasn’t high enough to make bending over comfortable, his weight shifted oddly on the balls of his feet and his knees bent just enough to make him uncomfortable. He couldn’t rest his weight against the top of the altar at the angle Graves was keeping him at so he was forced to use his hands as support, holding himself up as far as he could with Graves’ hand so tight in his head and then on his neck when Graves moved it to brace himself again.

Graves smacked him on his right cheek, harder than the two hits before, and Alex gasped out, “Three. Thank you, father.”

It went on, a steady rhythm of hard smacks and the occasional light taping to throw Alex off, Graves varying the rhythm so Alex was never completely sure where the next hit would land. By his fifteenth Thank you, father, his eyes were stinging. By his twentieth, his legs were shaking. When Graves finally paused at twenty-five, he was trying to hold back tears, put on a brave face when Graves slowly let him stand back up so he could rub a rough hand over his burning ass.

“You took that first half so nice, pet.” Graves kissed his forehead, “I bet you won’t take the next half so well. Brother Adam’s here to, uh...cleanse your soul. Sometimes to be forgiven, you need to be punished. And what’s more punishing than Brother Adam’s cane?”

Alex, finally losing the battle against the tears, looked at Adam, now standing in the middle of the aisle with his favorite rattan cane - how had Alex not noticed that in the goddamn car - and started to tremble. He knew he could stop all of this, just say that one word and it would all be over, but as Adam walked towards him with that devilish smirk on his face he couldn’t help but feel excitement bloom in his chest.

Adam reached Alex, moving a hand to cup his face while the other trailed the cane down his side, causing shivers to go through Alex’s body at the cool feeling of the rattan cane against his heated skin. Adam pulled away as soon as Alex leaned into the touch; Graves might have helped Alex get comfortable but that definitely wasn’t Adam’s job.

Adam grabbed some rope from under the altar and, again, Alex asked himself how the fuck he didn’t see any of these things on the way over. Adam walked right under the chandelier, looking up at it before expertly throwing up one end of the rope so that it looped around the middle and came back down. 

While Adam was doing this, Alex hesitantly looked up at the four people eagerly watching the scenario. Jack was smirking, his eyes slightly lidded as he kept his gaze on Alex’s body, wanting him to turn around so he could see how red and bruised his pale ass was. Holden was sitting beside him, feeling sorry for Alex and, in complete juxtaposition with Jack, he definitely did not want to see Alex’s abused ass. August was trying his hardest to keep his eyes on the small bible on his lap, feeling as if it was an anchor weighing him down. He really could leave right now and just go home but he didn’t want to risk being seen as weak by Graves so he grit his teeth and stayed seated. Marco was practically vibrating in his seat, his hands having to grip the edge of his seat to keep himself grounded as his leg bounced up and down so fast it was almost worrying. His gaze was switching between all three of the men in front of him, not being able to settle on who he wanted to watch most.

Adam turned back to Alex, beckoning him over. Once Alex reached him, he turned him around so his back was to the pews. Jack let out a quiet ‘fuck’, his eyes glued to the bright red marks littering his ass, a few already beginning to darken into sweet bruises.

“Arms up, nice and high. On your tiptoes, Alex.” Adam said.

Alex obeyed without hesitation, raising his arms and not even flinching when Adam wrapped one end of the rope tightly around his wrists before tying it off. Alex looked up, squinting at the light from the chandelier and wondered what the point of this was. As soon as he thought that, Adam moved closer to the altar, taking the loose end of the rope with him and making it tug Alex’s body upwards. He tied it to a small barrier in front of the altar, looking over at the way Alex’s biceps and thighs shook from the strain of staying on his tiptoes. 

“If you don’t hold yourself up,” Adam started, walking over to Alex and leaning in to mutter the rest into his ear, “you’ll bring the ceiling down. So be a good boy and stay on your tiptoes.” 

“O-okay.” Alex stuttered, crying out when a harsh slap is delivered to his bruising skin.

“Is that any way to talk to me?” Adam snaps.

“N-no, I’m sorry, father.” Alex apologised, hanging his head partly in shame but mostly so he didn’t have to see Graves’ disappointed expression.

“That’s not what you call me, now is it Alex?” 

“I’m sorry, daddy.” 

Marco inhales sharply, his hand darting to August’s thigh and squeezing. August looks over at him, rolling his eyes at his husband and how fucking irritatingly excited he was. He looked down slightly, noticing that Marco was palming himself through his jeans and August hooked his hand around Marco’s neck, pulling him closer.

“If you don’t stop right now I’ll drag you out of here and tie you to the bed for a fucking week and make sure no one touches you.” August threatened and Marco couldn’t help but laugh quietly.

“Graves used that same threat on me last week, August. I guess you two really are brothers.” He smirked over at his husband, relishing in the disgusted look on his face as he immediately let go of Marco’s neck. 

Their attention shifted back to Adam and Alex when they heard the sound of the cane hitting something. Adam had swiped the cane, snapping it onto the closest pew just to watch Alex flinch at the sound. He smiled, almost laughed, at the scared look on Alex’s face.

“Count. Make sure you don’t fuck up again.” Adam almost sounded bored by the end of his sentence, as if Alex was becoming an inconvenience to him and that made Alex more panicked than any whip or cane could.

The first strike was a little harder than a tap. Adam knew that Alex was already sensitive and immediately starting with a powerful hit would wreck Alex, but not in the good way.

“One. Thank you, d-daddy.” Alex whimpered out despite it being a light tap. His focus was mostly on keeping himself up and making sure he wasn’t disappointing anyone.

The second strike was much harder, the pain starting on the center of his ass before it turned into a light tingle that almost felt numbing. Alex groaned out, sweat beading down his temple and a tear trickling down his cheek into his mouth.

“T-two. Thank you, daddy.” 

Alex looked up at Graves, seeing him resting against the altar with his arms crossed and his gaze trained on Alex. Their eyes met as Adam delivered the third strike, the lightest hit that was just enough pain to be considered as solely pleasureable by Alex. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his cock twitching against his stomach and Graves smirked. Alex quickly snapped out of his stupor, remembering what was asked of him.

“Three. Thank you, daddy.” 

The fourth had his knees buckling, for just a second. The chandelier creaked quietly and Alex forced himself back onto his toes, trying to lock his knees to avoid the shaking. He’d been bent over at an awkward angle for long enough that his knees were still recovering, let alone the fact that he could barely see straight and that his head was beginning to fog up, but he was trying his hardest to be good for Adam, for Graves, for his lovers watching in the pews. 

“Four. Thank you, daddy.”

Graves’ stare was piercing, cutting him down until he couldn’t do anything but try to hold onto the rope and ignore the growing ache in his calves and feet. Adam caught him hard across both cheeks and he stumbled a little, letting out a weak sob that caught in his throat for a moment.

“F-five...thank you, daddy.”

“You’re doin’ good, sweetheart,” Graves spoke up, noticing the crack in Alex’s voice, “Twenty more.”

Alex nodded slowly, moving on his toes a little to get the blood flowing. His toes were beginning to ache.

“I’m doing five, fast. You don’t have to count.” Adam warmed and, before Alex could even comprehend the words, he was being hit. The first happened so fast he didn’t even notice until the third hit had landed, one straight across, another at an angle, the next at a different angle, the fourth straight across again and the fifth below his cheeks and on the underside of his thighs.

He screamed. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t bite it back, but he screamed and jerked and nearly toppled over - catching himself on the balls of his feet, the tips of his toes and wrapping his hands so tight around the rope that he felt it nearly break the skin. 

Adam paused, pressing against his back, the bulge of his cock through his pants nudging against Alex’s ass, painful and rough against sensitive skin in a way that had Alex pressing back, longing for some sort of touch against his skin. Adam kissed up and down his neck, his shoulder and then a slow path to his ear. “You did good, Alex,”

Alex closed his eyes, squeezed them to try to stop the tears and leaned his head back against Adam’s shoulder for a few seconds before Adam was stepping away and rubbing roughly at the skin of his ass to enflame the pain again. He couldn’t help but moan, feeling his stomach tighten at the pain. It sent a shock of arousal through him, starting in the pit of his belly and sparking through his legs and pelvis, making his hips hitch desperately before he could get control of them again.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Fifteen more.” Adam said firmly and, when Alex slowly nodded, pressed the cane against his lower back lightly just to tease him, “Five more, fast again.”

He did it again, a different pattern that focused on the underside of his thighs and the less fleshy parts of his ass that had him close to screaming again. The only thing that stopped him was that he was more prepared and had bitten hard into his lip, muffling his cries behind teeth and lip and a thin drop of blood that Graves was immediately in his face for, cleaning off with a swipe of his thumb and then forcing him to let go of his lip. He pressed his face to Graves’ shoulder, inhaled sharply and didn’t even mind that he mostly inhaled Graves’ dress shirt. 

“You okay?” Graves asked. Adam moved back, giving Alex a break while Graves checked on him.

Alex nodded and Graves felt more than saw the movement. He could feel the tears starting to soak through his shirt and he considered stopping this right now and just letting Alex relax but Alex hadn’t used the safeword. The word that they all agreed would be the only thing to immediately stop their scenes.

“You’re doing so good, just a little more.” Graves moved Alex’s head up, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek before dropping his hands and walking back to the altar. 

Graves nodded to Adam, signalling that it was okay to continue and so he did. He gave Alex three quick hits, trying his best to avoid the already forming welts and Alex was silent for these. He gripped onto the rope even tighter, his eyes screwed shut and his teeth gritted together. He had no time to relax before another five were delivered. Harder than before and it almost felt as if each hit was directed right on the most abused parts of Alex’s ass and nothing he did could stop the cry of pain that reverberated through the empty church.

Jack moaned quietly, his hand moving to grip onto Holden’s as he heard his lover almost scream in pain. He watched the welts turn an angry red and watched Alex’s body tense and shake because of the pain. Holden looked down at their connected hands, smiling softly at the romantic action that Jack had initiated and even though he was watching his friend essentially be tortured, he couldn’t help but be happy that Jack was holding his hand.

“Two more, Alex. Are you okay?” Adam was getting concerned about him, Alex was usually someone who forced himself to get through punishments, not wanting to seem like he couldn’t handle it.

“Please,” He choked out, sounding like he needed those last two strikes. “Hit me again, daddy.”

Adam couldn’t stop the moan that left his mouth, the cane almost slipping from his hand in his haste to give the penultimate hit. Alex moaned once the cane made contact with his skin and his mind was too much of a mess to think of anything other than the fact that he was almost sobbing while being punished and everyone he cared about was in that room, watching. He braced himself for the last one, waiting and waiting for it but the relief of the final strike never came. Alex opened his eyes, relaxing his body as he looked over at Graves who had moved to stand next to where the rope was tied. He started to frown, not knowing what was going on but he barely had more than a second to think about it until the last hit of Adam’s cane. 

It landed on the hot flesh of his ass, a loud thwack that echoed around the walls of the church, and had Alex’s eyes rolling back, the pain so acute it couldn’t even be called pain - something closer to pleasure but still...not quite. Whatever it was, it short circuited his sytems. Between one blink and the next, eyes on Graves and the approval on his face, he felt it start in his groin and imminent outward from there, crawling down to his toes and up all the way to the tips of his hair, so deep in him that he felt his legs finally give out. If asked, he would describe it as an orgasm but, in the moment, he couldn’t think of it as anything other than the release of so much tension that he may or may not have blacked out - he couldn’t be sure. 

The next thing he knew, Graves as in front of him. Strong arms around his waist, supporting him because his feet were too shaky to do it for him, letting him rest his head against Graves’ shoulder and run a rough, gentle hand along his back.

“You did it, sweetheart,” Graves mumbled into his neck and Alex tried his best to respond but couldn’t come up with much more than a slow hum. He wasn’t all there, didn’t feel fully present. His body, even his ass, felt cool and a little far away. He barely noticed when someone cut his arms free, someone else who wasn’t graves slowly lowering them down so he was wrapped around Graves. Someone else untangled the ropes from his wrists and it kind of hurt to have the rough material pulled from where it had bitten into his skin, but he didn’t mind.

“Shit, Markov,” He heard Adam mutter, a familiar kiss pressed into his hair, “You did good for us, Alex. You ready for bed?”

He hummed again, not even really sure what that question meant. Graves laughed, his chest rumbling against Alex’s and Alex liked that, tightening his sore arms around him and letting whoever was touching him pull his pants up properly. 

“You want help, Graves?” someone - Holden - asked, and Graves just shook his head, tightening his arms around Alex.

“Nah, I’m just gonna take him home. August, you and Marco still coming with?”

“Yeah, Graves,” Alex heard August respond, but he was very tired. Exhausted, even.

Between one blink and the next, so much happened in a blink, he was in the back of Graves’ car with Graves but the car was moving. He leaned his head back against Graves’ shoulder, relaxed into the gentle hand petting through his hair, down his spine, keeping pressure off his ass, and slept.


End file.
